


Three Times Kit got Pheres To Dance (and One Time She Didn't)

by activatingAggro (pigeonfancier)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Flushed Romance | Matesprits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 19:30:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonfancier/pseuds/activatingAggro
Summary: Four-chapter fic-set forPheres Dysseu&Meukit London.Self-explanatory title.





	Three Times Kit got Pheres To Dance (and One Time She Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Meukit is female, but pre-transition at this point - it's never actively mentioned in the narrative, but pronouns will change at part three.

“I don’t think you can use your horns as an excuse, Pheres,” Kit teases, dropping back onto his feet. When he wipes his hands on his pants, they leave behind sandy trails. “They’re not even as long as mine!”

You kick at the furrows in the ground where his horns scraped, dubious, and he laughs.

When Kit had offered to teach you how to dance, this is not what you’d imagined. You’d pictured the cleared floor of his hiveblock, with open windows and music and just enough alcohol to make things more entertaining then mortifying. You’d brought the alcohol, even!

Now it rests morosely in the shadow of the hivestem, with sand collecting on the bottles rims. You’d barely been past the central archway when Kit had tumbled down the stairs. “Pheres!” he’d said, beaming, and you hadn’t the heart to stop him when he’d hauled you around back instead.

(And when he turned to look at you, just to make sure it was fine - well, you hadn’t the heart to correct him then, either.)

It’d taken one look at the courtyard, milling with lusii doing their best to crop the scraggly weeds lower, to decide you’d rather do this sober. It isn’t as if it’s been hard! You can do the.. waving, and the hip-pivotting, and all the other things Kit’s shown you. They don’t take skill, really, and you know how to dance, no matter what Emerel says. (No matter what Sipara says: as if she’s got room to talk about elbows, when she leads everything with her damn hips.) You’ve been able to perform all the moves, with only the slightest mis-steps.

Until now. Your palms are resting flat on the ground, and your horns, uncapped, are scarce inches from the sand. That isn’t the problem, though, not really. The problem is in how the ground is tipping up at you, and your horns are doing their best to drag you down to meet it.

“That’s why you keep your chin up! But, uh.” Kit rubs at his neck, his grin lopsided. “If you don’t want to,” he says, “you don’t have to! We can just -”

“Oh, no. You’re not escaping your offer that easily, I’m afraid,” you say, glancing up at him. The way he brightens is gratifying!

It almost wins out over your uncertainty. Almost. There’s a crick in your neck that’s only getting worse with each passing moment you stand like this. “I said I’d try it, didn’t I? But. Ah.”

“You’re not going to let me fall, are you? Because,” you say slowly, “I’m willing to try, but, ah, I’m not especially keen on falling on my face.”

“That seems a little painful, Kit. And perhaps cracking a horn or two is perfectly fine in your case - which isn’t to say you should, mind, they’re lovely, it’d be a dreadful waste - but I’ve got two sets of horns to hit on the way down. In addition to my nose.”

The thought makes you pull up. It’s a relief! But you can’t even pay much attention to that, not when you’re reaching up to your face, distressed.

“I can’t fall and break my nose, can I? Is that a risk, if I fall? Because I don’t have anything to set it, Kit, and I don’t want –”

He catches your wrist. “I promise I won’t let you fall,” he says, seriously enough that you almost miss the mocking quirk to his grin. “I’ll hold your legs the entire time. Okay?”

When you nod, he moves his hand to your neck. It’s less of a push and more of a suggestion, but you bend all the same. “It’s just like a flip, but you’re holding still. You can do it!”

“But if you can’t,” he says, glib, “then I’ll let you kick me in the face. How’s that?”

Then he grabs your knees, and lifts.


End file.
